


The Path That Leads Astray

by I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins



Series: The Way of Thedas [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, OC centric, lore heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-30 00:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12642711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins/pseuds/I_Write_Tragedies_Not_Sins
Summary: Bellanaris is one of the few warriors of Clan Lavellan, choosing a large two-handed weapon instead of the more typical bow or dagger of her people. Myrddin is a mage of the same clan, competing for the position of First or Second to the Keeper. But he's submitted to his fate, knowing he will one day be sent to live with another clan. But Bellanaris refuses to accept this, and fights to keep him a part of Clan Lavellan, even if it damages her own relationship with the Keeper in the process.A short story about Bellanaris Lavellan, future lover of Fen'harel, and her best friend, Myrddin, future lover of Fenris.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Strong au/hc. My hc has Lavellan and Solas as destined to be together, and Lavellan playing a deeper role in the future of the People. She does not become the Inquisitor, but takes an alternate path (not dying at the conclave, either).

9:17 Dragon

 

Bellanaris sighs as she snaps another tree branch by mistake, the wood splintering beneath her big, clumsy feet. Hunting is a skill best left to those who fought with arrows and daggers and stealth- Nari fought with hardened muscle and a broadsword that her clan members mocked for being too much like the shemlen weapons. Stealth and deception were never her strong points. 

She watches with dismay as the rabbit bounds away, leaping through the tall Fereldan grasses. They had travelled here recently to meet with the Sabrae clan, to exchange artifacts between the Keepers. The wet marsh lands of the Korcari Wilds are cold and unfamiliar to Nari, and she feels certain she must be lost. 

An abandoned hut sits in the distance, as good as place as any for a quick rest before continuing her first Hunt. She clomps toward it, her bare feet squelching in the muck and making enough noise to scare off nearby birds and small prey. The hut reeks of herbs when she enters, the smell almost overpowering. She covers her nose with her hand and notices a strange wooden figure lying on the ground, covered in a layer of dust so thick she can barely make out the elven figure beneath it. She picks it up, brushing off the dust with her long green tunic. 

The object feels strangely cold in her hands. A man looks at her with sad, wooden eyes. She can't help but think about how lonely he appears, a wolf pelt splayed around his shoulders.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?”

Nari whips around to see an old woman, face lined with age. Her white hair flows unbound around her, trailing down to lay in the swamp grass. A strange headdress made of steel and bone wraps around her head, curving to mimic dragon horns, though her dress is worn and patchy.

"Wh- Who are you?" Nari asks, hand reaching for the small dagger at her side, even though she barely knows how to wield the tiny weapon.

"The wolf will howl at your door, but will you let it in? A man now made of rage and pity, once who stood with pride."

Nari furrows her brow, taking in the woman's aged appearance and vague statements. "Asha'bellanar?" she questions, curious even as her hands tremble in fear. She hadn’t known the dilapidated hut belonged to  _her_. She would never have intruded upon the witch’s sacred lair if she had, and a shiver runs down her spine at the yellow glow in Asha’bellanar’s eyes.

The ancient woman stares at her for a moment, gaze looking at something farther away than Nari's face. "Before you, he shall falter, but the world will shake with change."

She walks away, staring out into the vast Wilds. "Strange to see the Lavellan clan so deep in Ferelden. Is it fate or chance..."

“I didn't mean to disturb you, Asha’bellanar. Forgive me,” she says, trying, and failing, to hold her deep voice steady as she speaks. She kneels down, bowing her head in respect.

The witch turns, peering down her nose. “Stand, child. Do not bend your knee so quickly. However.... ." Her voice trails off for a moment as Nari rises to her feet. "I believe you may be of use to me. Follow me, if you have the will.”

Asha’bellanar turns on her heel, her long robes trailing through the muddy swamp water. Nari hurries after her, feet making squelching sounds as she goes. She follows Asha’bellanar through the Wilds, unsure of their destination, fear and awe keeping her silent.

They stop outside the camp of a small clan of Chasind warriors. A woman with long dark brown hair sits by the firelight, bouncing a crying child on her knee and coughing. Blood splatters across her palm as her body shakes from the force of the heaving cough. A man leans down near her with a flask, brows furrowed in worry.

“That child is full of strong magic. Her mother will die within the month. In a year, so will her father,” Asha’bellanar whispers, gravelly voice low as they hide in the shadows. “A Dalish hunter will take his life in revenge of her dead husband. Vengeance is a constant cycle chased by fate."

“She will be alone then? The child, I mean,” Nari asks. She looks up at Asha’bellanar’s lined face, and shivers once more as a storm of rage crosses her yellow eyes momentarily.

The old witch looks down at her. “No. You will fetch her for me, bring her to me, tonight.”

~*~*~

Bellanaris waits as the last of the Chasind lay down to sleep, the stench of their shemlen alcohol stretching over the smell of the swamp. Now the only ones who are awake are two guards, their faces smeared with tribal paint.

She sneaks clumsily along the edges of the camp, and marvels at the fact nobody can hear her stumbling footsteps. She wonders for a moment if the magic Asha'bellanar wields is helping to silence the noise she's making. She enters the small tent where the Chasind woman and her daughter sleep, pausing only a moment as her eyes adjust to the darkness.

She grabs the little girl, curled up under a blanket, her hair long and matching her mother’s faded locks.  _She can’t be more than six summers,_  Nari thinks to herself as she drops the small vial Asha’bellanar had given her. A green fog covers the ground, a sleeping potion to keep the child and mother from waking too soon. She bundles the little one in her arms, grateful for the antidote that keeps her lucid and able to complete her task.

She dashes through the Wilds, far from the Chasind camp. When she reaches Asha’bellanar, she hands her the child with trepidation humming through her.

“I shall call you Morrigan,” the witch says, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Sleep, and remember not your life before, child.” She turns to Nari, before nodding at the small figurine that had caught the young girl's attention in the first place. "You may have that, child. You will do the People proud. And take one of these pelts to your Keeper. You have proved yourself tonight."

~*~*~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma falon- my friend  
> felas- slow

**Five Years Later...**

 

Bellanaris looks across the forest, tall shadows making strange shapes on the ground. Wolves howl in the distance as a grin turns the corners of her lips upwards. "Myrddin! Over here, lethallin," she calls out, waving her hand toward her mage friend.

Myrddin's brown hair blows in the early afternoon breeze, his bright blue eyes shining. "Ah, it would seem you've found me. Wonderful," he replies, tone dry but lips curving into a smile. A small group of halla trail behind him, their white hides bright in the sun.

"I followed the scent of the halla, of course," she deadpans, unblinking.

He laughs, the sound echoing off the trees. "Of course. And what brings you out here, looking for me today?"

Bellanaris shrugs, her short brown hair twisted back into a big, messy braid. "Keeper Deshanna's angry at me again. I thought to find company that wouldn't yell at me so much." The sound of the Keeper's screeching is still loud in her mind, and makes her flinch.

"Did she catch you staring at the statue of Fen'Harel again?" he asks, tone chiding. "No wonder she yells at you so. If the Dread Wolf catches your scent, you might bring his misfortune to us all, Nari."

She shrugs her broad shoulders again, muscles stiff from carrying her hefty broadsword all day. "I feel calm when I stare into the wolf's eyes. I-" She hesitates, knowing she shouldn't say anything, even to Myrddin.

He clicks his tongue, though, shaking his head as he strokes the head of one the halla. "Come on then, out with it. You're hiding something." The halla darts out its tongue, licking his elbow as the mage watches her with one eyebrow raised.

Nari sighs, running her fingers across the top of her head, nails tangling in the braid. "Ah, perhaps," she says, looking off into the trees. "It's not important, lethallin. Come, let's go for a walk, instead," she continues, walking off toward the small stream that trickles through this part of the forest.

The water washes over stones and pebbles, crystal clear in the gentle shade of the trees. She takes the large sword off her back, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. She ignores Myrddin's noise of warning, sitting down on a large boulder and dipping her toes in the water. "You're magic will protect us, and my sword is near enough that I can grab it," she says, interpreting his facial expression to one of worry and caution. She leans her head back, basking in the sunlight as it filters through the branches. The soft musical chirping of birds makes her smile, a slow grin that spreads across her face, eyes closed.

Myridd sits down next to her, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "So, why did you really search for me? The Keeper's wrath has never bothered you before."

Nari shakes her head, vivid green eyes still closed. "Nay, hush awhile, ma falon, and enjoy the summer air."

"We are Dalish, we always enjoy the summer air," he quips, earning a small chuckle from her. "You did not seek me out for no reason, lethallen," he urges.

She opens one eye, squinting at him. "You are persistent today, aren't you? I was worried about you. You spend so much time alone with the halla, and it does nothing to endear you to becoming the Keeper's First, or Second."

Myridd nods, lips pursed as he stares out across the forest, Sylaise 's simple vallaslin in dark, inky grey across one eye. "I fear our Keeper has already made her choice, Nari. I will join another clan as soon as she finds one suitable. Our clan has too many mages, there's nothing to be done for it."

"It doesn't have to be you, though," Nari grumbles, kicking at a stone with her foot. The water splashes against her ankle, cool in the warmth of the sun. "Not if you prove your worth as her First."

He scoffs, a derisive smirk twisting his lips. "And displace her precious Clarinda? I'd have more luck trying to catch a fish without a hook," he replies.

"Clarinda should have been named Felas, for she is dimmer than the shemlen's rusted coppers," Bellanaris quips back. "You are twice the mage she is."

Myridd lets out a short bark of a laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Don't let the Keeper hear you say that, lethallen. She might trade you to another clan, as well."

"If she does, maybe I'll just call the Dread Wolf after her," she replies, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He frowns, his long hair thrown over one shoulder. "You shouldn't even joke about such things, Nari. He might actually hear you."

 _I wish He would._  But she doesn't say her thoughts out loud, knowing Myridd would be horrified that she truly wished to call the Dread Wolf near. When she thinks of him, she thinks of loneliness, of an indescribable ache that she cannot bare to feel, less her heart might break. Ever since Asha'bellanar gave her that statue, she's seen the images of a man with flashing grey eyes clad in wolf skin in her dreams, fleeting and untouchable. The most disturbing part is that she is no mage, and has no right remembering her dreams, and so she has kept quiet about them, even to her dearest friend.

She yearns to catch him, to touch his face beneath her fingertips, and wash away the burning feel of loneliness that emanates from the statue in cold waves. It's a foolish wish, she knows, and one she hides in her heart, never spoken.

Myridd's hand waves in front of her face, and she turns her gaze to him, amused by his expression. "What?" she asks, both brows raised.

He shrugs, leaning back on one elbow. "You were lost to me for a moment, thoughts drifting off somewhere. I said your name, and still you did not respond. Are you well, lethallen?"

"I'm fine," she replies. "Do you think the Keeper will listen if I tell her I want you to stay with our clan?"

He laughs, bumping his shoulder against hers. "Why? With you so insistent, I might start to think you like me," he teases.

She rolls her eyes, grinning. "By the Dread Wolf's howl, don't be ridiculous. Besides, I've seen the way you eye Llywelyn when no one else is watching. You have a thing for him, don't you? His sultry dark eyes and long, bla-"

Myridd covers her mouth with his hand, frowning. "Shut up. I don't know what's worse; you swearing by Fen'Harel's name, or your tendency to blurt out whatever thought pops into that silly head of yours. Mythal save me, but you're exasperating sometimes."

She licks the palm of his hand, earning a disgusted glare as he yanks his arm away. "Only sometimes? Then I'm not trying hard enough," she replies, chuckling.

"By the Creators, I do wonder why I put up with you," he says with a grunt, wiping her spit on the soft leather of his robes. 

"Because of my endearing charm and steadfast loyalty?" 

He grunts again, lips twisting into a wry grin. "You have as much charm as my little finger," he drawls, shoving at her arm.

She topples over, landing in the creek with a splash as pain shoots up her backside. "That hurt," she says, frowning up at him. "And now my clothes are wet. I hate being wet."

"Serves you right; I hate being licked."

Nari grins, slowly getting to her feet and backing away. "I bet you wouldn't mind so much if it was Llywelyn doing the licking," she quips, before darting off through the trees.

"You..." He trails off as he stares at her sword. "You forgot your weapon. Again." He sighs, grabbing the hefty sword in his hands, and slowly making his way toward her hiding spot in the trees. "One day, you'll regret leaving this behind, you know, lethallen," he calls, though Nari can barely hear him as she runs off again through the trees, making more noise than a proper elf should. 


	3. Chapter 3

_The ground shifts beneath her feet, rolling hills of verdant green morphing into dry, cracked earth which fades into sand so soft it can't be real. A great shadow looms above her, a monstrous form with glowing eyes. She shrinks back in fear, hands trembling._

_A wolf howls behind her, loud and low. She spins around, eyes widening at the sight of a grey timber wolf. The shadow recedes and the wolf walks forward, tail wagging as he pants. She looks around, the ground still shifting forms, and kneels down to pet the wolf between the ears. "Fen'Harel?" She whispers the name, fear and awe in her voice._

She sits up, drenched in a cold sweat as birds chirp the morning chorus all around her. Nari's eyes dart around, hands clutching at the grass. It was a dream, just a dream, she assures herself, wiping the sweat from her brow. She reaches for the small statue she keeps hidden under her pillow. She gazes into the eyes of the man, tracing her finger across his tiny wooden lips.

"Bellanaris, come here."

Nari turns her head, looking back toward where the Keeper has her aravel. "Yes, Keeper Deshanna," she replies, stuffing the statue back under her pillow and scrambling to her feet.

The Keeper narrows her eyes at her, looking down her nose before sighing. "I hear you wish to speak to me," she says, tone more clipped than usual.

"Me? But Keeper, you were the one who called me over," Nari replies, scuffing her toe along the dirt. "I live only to serve my clan, of course."

"Mythal preserve me," Deshanna grumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose. "That lip will not help your cause, da'len. Clarinda was near you when the two of you spoke near the creek a week ago."

Nari frowns, thick brows furrowed tight. "Fenedhis. Stupid shape changers," she mutters. 

A sharp rapping connects with the top of her head and she winces, looking up to see the Keeper's staff. "Owe," she says, glaring. "Well, it's rude of her to eavesdrop."

"Hold your tongue, da'len," Deshanna demands. "She is my eyes and ears where I cannot be." She takes a deep breath, letting it pass slowly between her aging lips. "I know you wish for Myrddin to stay with our clan, but it is not to be."

Nari squares her shoulders, holding her chin high. "Then I will go to whatever clan you send him to. He is my friend, and I will journey at his side."

"You are impossible. But the answer to your request is no, da'len. Now go, there is hunting to be done for tonight's supper."

Nari turns on her heel, grabbing her sword as she goes, and marches off toward the trees, muttering curses under her breath all the while. The Keeper's stubbornness both baffles and angers her. She doesn't want Myrddin to go. He _can't_ go. Nari can see the eyes of her fellow clan members as she stomps toward the treeline. They're always watching her, muttering when they think she can't hear. They call her strange, odd, like a shemlen. 

Nari supposes they're right. She pauses, looking up at the bright blue sky. _Mythal, can you hear me? Why don't you answer your People? Is it really Fen'Harel's fault? Why do I feel so sad whenever someone speaks His name? I wish you could hear me, Great Protector.  
  
_ Myrddin is the only one who understood her loneliness. She is surrounded by kin and clan, and yet she's alone. No one understands her strange obsession with the Dread Wolf statues. She doesn't even understand it herself. No one else fights "like a shemlen". But archery bores her and she's too slow to fight with daggers. She looks down at the hard muscles that ripple beneath her clothes. She likes testing her strength, building up her abilities until she's the strongest member of her clan. But no one else appreciates her skill. 

But Myrddin is an outsider, too. Ever since he was old enough to walk, he has been close to the halla. They came to him, softened under his touch even better than they did for the clan's Halla Keeper. But then his magic was discovered, and he was parted from the halla. Nari flinches at the memory, remembering young Myrddin's mournful cry. The Keeper had even forbade him from choosing Ghilan'nain's vallaslin when he came of age, to drive the point home.

She spots her friend wandering alone again, surrounded by wild halla. She waves and dashes toward him, startling the majestic creatures. Myrddin sighs. "I take it the Keeper declined your request?"

She clenches her jaw, nodding. "I will not give up hope, lethallin. I do not wish for either of us to be alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those asking, no, it isn't actually Fen'Harel coming to her in dreams. It's Ash'bellanar manipulating what she sees for reasons undisclosed as of yet. Interpret that as you will.


	4. Chapter 4

The Keeper's eyes are weary as Nari stomps toward her, broadsword strapped to her back. "You cannot truly mean to send him out alone?" Nari demands to know, bright green eyes narrowed. Her pack is already filled with her few meager belongings, her path clear. 

"Aye, I do. There are no clans with room for him, da'len. And we haven't the room in our own, either," she replies, tone hard.

Nari snarls at the elder mage, fingers digging into her palms as she tries to remain calm. "You can't! He'd be alone."  _I'd be alone._ "Please, Keeper." She grits her teeth, resolve hardening but still hoping the Keeper will change her mind.

The Keeper sighs, looking over her head, out toward something Bellanaris can't see. "It's already done, da'len. Myrddin is gone. He'll find his own path."

"Then I will follow. No mage should be alone," she replies, turning to go. "Dareth shiral, Keeper. Ma serannas for your guidance."

A sharp intake of breath comes from the Keeper. "Bellanaris! I forbid you to go. We can't afford to lose any mo-"

Nari spins around, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Forbid? Lose what, Keeper? You taught me that the loss of _any_ Dalish is too much, and yet you cast aside Myrddin because he has magic. I will not abandon my clan mate as easily as you."

The Keeper's eyes widen, the lines around her mouth pinched. "It is never easy, da'len," she finally replies, voice full of resignation. "I did not wish to turn Myrddin away. I had no choice, for the clan's sake. But you can follow him, if you wish. I suppose I was never able to truly stop you, was I?"

Nari turns away, the pain in her chest tight. Despite their fights, she loves the Keeper. She has been mother, teacher, and friend to Nari since she was a child. But Myrddin... He was out there, alone. She couldn't bare the thought. If she doesn't follow him, who else will?

~*~*~

 

It takes her three weeks to find Myrddin. He's camping but not alone- a single halla rests by his side, its large white head resting in Myrddin's lap. The man's eyes are closed against the waning sun. Nari slowly creeps up to him until she's standing over him, gleeful she has remained undetected. 

"You are as noisy as you are rash, lethallen," he mutters, eyes still closed. 

She pouts, folding her arms across her chest. "You heard me?"

Myrddin finally opens his eyes. "Of course, lethallen. A deaf halla would have noticed your approach."

"Ma serannas, Myrddin," Nari replies, tone dry.

He frowns up at her, a dark expression crossing his face. "The Keeper gave me that name, after my parents died. I no longer feel as if it is my name to have."

Nari takes a seat next to her only friend. "Than what shall I call you, lethallin?"

He ponders her question a moment before responding. "Banal'vhenas. For now I have no home."  He pauses, looking up at her. "You should go back."

Nari plops down next to him, laying her sword across her life. "You won't rid yourself of me so easily, Myr- Banal'vhenas." She sighs, looking up at the dimming light from the sky. "It sounds so quiet out here, in the wilderness, without the clan. I miss them already but I do not regret my choice to follow you."

A soft snort comes from Banal'vhenas. "Ma serannas, lethallen."

 


End file.
